Ishichan Has Two Daddies
by Ariaste
Summary: It all began in health class. Starring: The Sanada Family Stone. SanadaYukimura, NiouYagyuu, loudly implied MaruiAkaya.


There is something wrong with a mind that comes up with things like this. Please pretend that they have sex ed in Japan. My betas tell me they don't.  
This one's for Viya too. Merry belated Christmas, dear! Written for her and for the Silentlikestone fanfiction exchange on Livejournal.

* * *

It all began in sex ed. Yukimura was asleep on the desk next to him, and so did not yet know. 

"Are you sure?" the teacher asked. "I can ask the girls not to, if it's any sort of problem." The girls in question were best friends who sat together across the classroom. Currently they were giving Sanada the woeful puppy eyes. The rest of the class watched silently.

"It's alright, sensei," he said.

The girls squealed and clasped each others hands and bounced. "Sanada-san is so gracious!" one of them cried.

The teacher did not look convinced. "Will Yukimura-kun mind?"

Sanada looked at the sleeping boy next to him. "We do all our projects together, sensei."

The teacher shrugged. "If you're sure."

Seven and a half minutes later: "We only get one?" wailed the girl--was her name Machiko? Sanada couldn't remember, but he wished he had his hat: The teacher had explained the project and the need to pair up. A few moments before Machiko's wail, Sanada had gently, yet panickingly, begun to shake Yukimura awake.

"What?" he mumbled before he opened his eyes.

"Yukimura. Pay attention, we're supposed to have a baby."

Yukimura's eyes drifted open, then closed again. "Mm. 'S a new one. I like the one with the giant dancing trophy better. No babies, dream-Gen-chan. Being surreal is rude."

"Yukimura," he said again, more firmly.

"I said no," Yukimura grumbled, sniggling further into the nest of his arms on the desk.

"It's a class project," Sanada whispered, prodding one elbow.

"Nn."

"Tarundoru!" he hissed.

Yukimura shot awake, glaring and sleep-drowsy. "Don't you tarundoru _me_, you hulking _lummox_, or I'll have you running laps until your legs fall off--"

"For the hundreth time!" the teacher was telling the girls. "You _can't_ have a second child, otherwise I'll be one short. All the other pairs need one--"

Yukimura, who had paused when the teacher spoke, looked at Sanada again. "It's a project," Sanada whispered. "There's _dolls_, Yukimura." He didn't say _save us!_ because this was, after all, Rikkai.

Yukimura must have known, though, because he raised his hand. Sanada suddenly wasn't sure if this was a good thing. "Sensei," he called over, "let them have the doll. The two of us can substitute a sack of flour or something."

The teacher paused. Yukimura gave her his sweetest smile.

* * *

"_Sack of flour._ Why did I say sack of flour?" 

Sanada said nothing. He found that the things Yukimura said during lunch tended to upset the serene and tranquil mentality he liked to have while eating. That, and if Yukimura continued until his comments began frustrating himself, it was more than likely that it would turn into a full-blown rant, and Sanada would miss his noon meditation again.

"It would work, after all, but it would be yet another something to carry around, not to mention how messy it could be..." He muttered something into his bento about the dangers of sharp, lost objects in bookbags--pens and the corners of books--then looked up again. "Oh, don't mind me, Sanada. Eat your lunch. I'm just talking to myself." Sanada knew better than that. If he settled himself into his calm place, Yukimura was sure to ask a sudden question and his serenity would shatter. "Aren't you missing your Zen thingy?"

_Like that._ Exactly like that. Sanada told himself that Yukimura was excused from tact because neither genius nor authority could be questioned, and that Yukimura could say whatever he wanted, _whenever_ he wanted because he was pretty. That made up for a lot of things, Sanada thought. A _lot_ of things.

But all he said was, "I was listening to you."

"No, don't bother," Yukimura said, waving his chopsticks dismissively. "Go on, I'll be quiet, I promise."

Sanada wasn't sure, but since Yukimura seemed to have finished mumbling and was applying himself industriously to his lunch, Sanada decided to risk it. He moved off the bench and sat on the grass close by, emptied his bag of books, and heaved the family stone onto the ground before him.

Yukimura continued eating, staring off into the clouds with a contemplative frown. Sanada watched him suspiciously for a moment, then composed himself for meditation and closed his eyes. _The rock. I am like the rock--no, I_ am _the rock. I am strong like the rock. I am stable and still and at peace like the rock. The rock is invincible. It cannot be hurt by fire or air, or water-- okay, so it can, but it takes a long time--or not so long, Yukimura's pretty convincing when--**Focus!** I am the rock. I--_

"I've got it!"

Sanada flinched, then opened his eyes. "Yukimura?"

"Your rock! It's perfect." Yukimura grinned. "No one will ask about it since you take it everywhere anyway."

"I..."

"And you don't mind, right?" Yukimura dropped into the grass next to him and rummaged through his bookbag. "Where's that assignment..."

"Of course not, Yukimura," Sanada said, and felt, once again, the helpless vertigo of a man whose life is spinning out of his control.

"Do you think we could use this as a bonding exercise for the team?"

* * *

"Regulars, assemble in the clubhouse!" Sanada barked at the beginning of practice, watching the first-years for a few moments more to make sure their swing reps didn't need correcting. 

He entered the clubroom just in time to see Yukimura finishing the summary of the Team Bonding. "--Because being a team is like being a family. Therefore, Akaya, please hold your little brother." Yukimura shoved the rock into Akaya's arms--he squeaked in surprise, stumbled, and dropped it.

"Aah! Buchou! My ribs!" he whined--then caught sight of Sanada and trailed off, wide-eyed.

"You dropped the stone," Sanada said, and noticed, distantly, that his voice was low, lethal, quivering with rage. "Laps until you _die!_" he snarled, hauling the stone off the floor.

As Akaya scampered out the door, Yukimura smiled at the rest of the team. "You see how seriously Sanada is taking this?"

* * *

Marui patted the rock affectionately whenever Yukimura shot him a suspicious glance from across the court. He and Jackal had been assigned babysitting duty during their buchou's practice match against Sanada, and they were basking in the newfound luxury of, for once, looking after something inanimate. Stationary. 

"Ahh, nice day, isn't it, Jackal?" he asked, stretching against the back of the bench.

"Why yes, I do think so, my good partner," replied Jackal, who was glowingly happy over the circumstances.

"Nice breeze... Sunshine..."

"Watching buchou play tennis..."

"Always a treat."

"And so rare that we get to apply our full attention to it."

"Not _all_ our attention, Jackal, my friend," Marui reminded with a purr of contentment. "How much are we using to look after this beloved class project?"

"Don't let him hear you call it that," Jackal warned, sniggering. "He'll say you aren't serious."

"I am fond of my buchou, I am fond of my buchou, I am fond of my buchou," Marui chanted under his breath.

"Mhm," Jackal agreed. "Personally, I think the touch of insanity adds to his charm. Look at Akaya."

"'Moderation in all things,' Jackal. Except food."

"So you," Jackal said, poking Marui in the side for good measure, "can be moderately cooperative with Yukimura's little whims. Makes him happy. Happy buchou, comfy practices."

"They aren't _whims_. Jackal, have some respect." But Marui looked thoughtfully at the rock all the same. "Rock baby. Right."

"Right."

"Being serious."

"Yes."

Marui blinked and looked at Jackal. "So do you think they're breastfeeding?"

* * *

"Yukimura--" Sanada began, three days later. 

"_Seiichi_," he corrected firmly. "Do you want our child to think there's no affection in our household?"

"Seiichi," Sanada attempted. "It's just my family rock--"

"Ohhh, no you don't," Yukimura interrupted, holding one warning finger in Sanada's face. "Don't you go saying that Ishida--"

"Ishida?"

"--is _yours_, like I haven't given him all my love and devotion," he snarled. Sanada wondered where all this so-called love and devotion had disappeared to. "I have been just as dedicated to his happiness and wellbeing as you. Probably moreso--do _you_ sing him to sleep?"

"Seiichi--"

"_Do_ you?" Yukimura folded his arms and looked even more cross.

"I... will from now on."

Some of the irritation cleared from Yukimura's face, and he nodded, opening the clubhouse door and entering.

"Buchou!" Niou called. "Look!" He held up a small blue something. "I made it as a present for Ishi-chan!" He beamed, which looked feral rather than pleased. "And Yagyuu made the bobble."

It was a pink bobble. Sanada's hand twitched, and he would have launched into a lecture about how free time should be spent training, or studying, or on useful, enriching activities, but Yukimura's face had lit up like a child's at four AM on Christmas morning, and that sent all thoughts of beratement out of his head.

"Niou, it's precious!" Yukimura examined the tiny hat from all angles. "What good godparents you two are."

"See, Yagyuu?¨ Niou showed even more sharp little teeth. ¨I _told_ you he'd like it."

Yagyuu looked at Sanada with a sort of blank, helplessly lost look that Sanada was very familiar with--he knew they were both thinking the same thing:_Godparents?_

_Why must they do this?_ Sanada thought.

_I regret that I do not know,_ Yagyuu seemed to think back.

* * *

Yukimura was having, on the whole, a lovely day. Morning practice had gone swimmingly--a fairly rare occurence, which Yukimura was attributing to the new family bonding the team was developing. 

He was looking forward to lunch with Genichirou and their darling child, and afterwards, an equally satisfying afternoon practice. Family, affection, and tennis: What more could one wish for?

He was smiling to himself, thinking of this, and looking out of one of the corridor windows when Machiko-chan-from-health-class tapped one shoulder.

"Yukimura-kun? Could we ask you something?"

He turned, nodded to her and her health class partner, Kozue-chan. "Of course. What can I help you with?" He smiled. "Are you having as nice a day as I am?"

"Well, that's the thing, Yukimura-kun," Kozue-chan said, twisting the hem of her blazer.

"You know that project we're all doing?" Machiko asked. "With the dolls?"

Yukimura's smile widened. "Yes, of course. Is yours going well?"

"Well." The girls looked at each other. "You know how we wanted two babies?"

"Yes?"

"We have too much homework..."

"And we shouldn't have been so greedy in the first place, ne?" Kozue-chan asked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger and smiling coyly up at Yukimura through her bangs.

"Excuse me?" Yukimura said softly, the smile slipping off his face. "Wait, let me see if I understand you correctly. You... want to foist your unwanted child off on us?"

"Well, sensei said she didn't mind if we gave you the one you should have had, and besides," Machiko added brightly, "you wouldn't have to lug that dirty rock of Sanada-san's around everywhere!"

Yukimura stiffened with rage--the girls paled and took a step and a half back. "What. Did you call it?"

"It's just a rock," Kozue ventured, her voice small and squeaky.

"A _rock_. You're calling _my child_ a _rock_."

"Well, it--"

"I _love_ Ishida, and so does Genichirou! He carried that child--_my_ child, you insolent twit--for years! And you expect me to just fling all that away for your misbegotten get! You should be _ashamed_, woman!" Yukimura whirled around and stormed away.

Lovely day his ass.

* * *

"They were so awful, Genichirou!" Yukimura said woefully, prodding the few grains of rice that were left in his bento into a little heart. "I mean, how could they even think of just dumping one of their children like that? Can you imagine us wanting to get rid of Ishi?" 

"I don't even like to consider it."

Yukimura set his bento down and curled into Sanada's side, drawing Ishida closer to his other side. He tweaked the hat's bobble and smiled. Nevermind the infuriating girls--it was bright and sunshiny, and he was sitting on a brand-new picnic blanket with his child and the co-father of his child in the shade of a dark-leaved tree while the breeze brought the faint and far-off sound of tennis balls hitting a concrete wall and Jackal, distantly, bellowing in English again.

* * *

Yanagi clicked a button on the remote control and his powerpoint presentation faded to the next slide, the text appearing in a dramatic swoop, accompanied by the graph playfully bouncing into the frame. "I have previously observed spikes in Yukimura's maternal instinct during times of team or personal stress. Has he ever tearfully flung combs at anyone else? Not Jackal, obviously--" 

"No, he's done that to me too."

Akaya raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Is that why he gets weird over me when I get hurt, sempai?"

Niou, in the back of the cluster of chairs, snorted. "Buchou is the softest touch in the world for helpless-and-sniffling, Akaya."

"Yes," Yagyuu agreed, "but those traits cannot accurately describe Sanada's family stone, Niou-kun."

"My god, Yagyuu, it was damn cute after we put the hat on!"

"No, _listen_," Akaya demanded. "Is that why when I trip and skin my knee, or that time I walked into a tree--"

Niou sniggered; Yagyuu elbowed him.

"--Shut up, sempai!--is that why he always has those bee-patterned bandages and uses words like 'boo-boo' and 'kiss it better'?"

Yanagi would not laugh. He wouldn't. It would ruin three and a half years of reputation-building if he laughed now.

"I mean," Akaya was continuing, "I'm not saying that it's not a nice feeling--I bet no one _else's_ buchou loves their team as much as Yukimura-buchou loves us--it's just that..."

"Well?" Yanagi said and raised one eyebrow. He found the one-eyebrow helped curb his amusement.

"What's with the bees on the bandaids?"

"Team loyalty," Yanagi replied promptly. "They were the only ones he could find that matched our colors.¨

"Oh," said Akaya, and sat back in his seat, then leaned forward again. "But it's sort of... weird. Not the colors, but the... the sort of squishy look he gets in his eyes. You know?"

"The word you're looking for is 'unnerving', Kirihara-kun," Yagyuu supplied.

"Look," Marui interrupted. "Buchou's got his weird little habits. So what? It's his way, and considering that he could whup any and all of our asses any day of the week, we don't have much room to question him once he really gets going." Marui looked around, giving anyone who wanted to the chance to agree.

"You have a valid point, Marui. Was that all?"

"No. The time to dissuade him about this was immediately after the phrase, 'Doesn't everyone think we should have a closer relationship to each other?'" Marui snapped his gum. "You know, when it was still classified under 'A Fleeting Fancy That I Thought Up' rather than 'A Must-Do!' And the way to throw him off would have been, 'Why, Yukimura-buchou, I think being like a family would actually lessen the intimate friendship and loyalty we feel for each other.'" Marui nodded. "But none of you said it, and I wondered what he was going on about."

"The point is," Yanagi said, clicking the remote again, "how we get him to stop."

A surprised silence met these words.

"Why, Renji," Niou sang with horrific merriment, "are you suggesting mutiny?"

Yanagi cleared his throat. "The thought is not to be disregarded."

"You can't mutiny!" Akaya shrieked and shot to his feet--his chair clattered backwards with the force. "It's... It's Yukimura." He bit his lip and looked at the floor.

"I know, Akaya," Yanagi said, patting one of Akaya's shoulders manfully. "I know. But all of us are disturbed by these things Yukimura is introducing. Do you want to be Akaya-nii-san to an inanimate object? For the rest of your high-schoool career and possibly part of college?" Shocked, Akaya looked up at him through his curls. "Do you think I want to be Uncle Renji for the _rest of my life_?"

"Do you think I want to be Godfather Niou?"

"_Yes,_ you do," Yagyuu scathed. "But I don't."

"You're not Godfather Niou, you're Godfather Yagyuu. Except when I am, in which case, then yes, you would be Godfather Niou."

"Guys," Marui said, snapping his gum again to get everyone's attention. "Has anyone given any thought to exactly how we'd go about this?"

"I have to agree with Akaya on this one," Jackal said. "I don't want to mutiny. Pretending like he's married to Sanada makes him happy. More girls for us! Right?" He looked around at his teammates as if it was the best insight that week. "Right?"

Marui patted Jackal's knee. "No one else cares, Jackal," he said gently. "Do you need a few moments?"

"I... Oh. Oh, is _that_ why--"

"Yes, that's why Niou and Yagyuu." Marui closed his eyes and nodded sympathetically. "It's a lot to take in. We understand."

"And if you need help wrapping your mind around it, a demonstration can certainly be arranged--"

"_Niou-kun._"

Jackal stared at his feet, then glanced at Akaya. "Even--"

"Well," Marui said, clearing his throat and looking away. "Our dear kouhai is still very young--"

"_Sempai!_" Akaya shrieked.

"So no mutiny, then?" Yanagi asked mournfully.

* * *

"It's _my_ turn to take him home, Genichirou." 

"Why don't you just have him the entire week, then?" Sanada demanded. "It's not like you want me involved, correct?" Gods, custody arguments already? And here he'd thought he'd get at least another week.

Yukimura's eyes welled up with tears. Sanada felt an instant pang of guilt, but didn't let it show: Yukimura was taking all this far too seriously, and it was Sanada's duty--as a good friend, a responsible vice-captain, and as a might-as-well-be-lover--not to let Yukimura get too carried away. He played his strongest card: "Seiichi," he began gently, "I just want to make sure we're focused on things that are more-- I mean, _equally_ important. Like tennis. Winning the Nationals, Seiichi, we're still going to do that. Aren't we?"

Something in there had been the wrong thing to say. "We would if you were a better example for our child! It's your fault we lost the Regionals! _Yours!_ You failed, Genichirou! What sort of examples do you want to set for Ishi-chan?" he demanded, furious and still teary-eyed. "Do you want him to grow up thinking it's okay to _fail_ and _lose_ and _be a loser?_"

"Of course not, Seiichi," Sanada said, and tugged his cap down. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," Yukimura muttered. He'd turned away and crossed his arms.

Neither said anything for several moments. Sanada looked down at the rock cradled in his arms, and almost felt like it was accusing him.

"Would you like to stay the night?" he muttered. Yukimura didn't answer for a moment. "Then we wouldn't have to fight over who takes care of... of Ishida." He winced.

Yukimura tossed his hair and faced Sanada again. "I suppose we'd better. It's healthier if he grows up in a non-fragmented household."

"Yes," said Sanada. "Just so." Maybe if he went along with it, he could later divert Yukimura's attention slowly away from the rock. Or, speaking in the short-term, if Yukimura wasn't sulking at him, he'd be much more inclined to curling up and sharing Sanada's futon. Of course, the rock would be there too, but Sanada believed in small steps when it came to handling potential explosives and Yukimura.

* * *

The rock was placed lovingly in a nest of blanket on Sanada's desk. Yukimura was drowsing off to sleep, his nose brushing against Sanada's neck. 

"We should cherish these moments," Yukimura mumbled.

"Of course," he yawned in reply.

"Because one day--" Yukimura caught the yawn. "--One day he'll be a teenager and just sit around like a lump and sulk. And we'll miss his cheerful days of youth, right?"

Sanada glanced over at the rock on his desk--sitting like a lump, expressionless. He went with the easy answer. "Yes, Seiichi."

He felt Yukimura smile against his shoulder, snuggle a little closer, curl one arm further around him. He looked for a moment more at the rock, then down at Yukimura, and pushed a few strands of hair out of Yukimura's eyes with the hand that was free--not stuck under Yukimura's shoulders--tucked them behind his ear, and--on impulse--sealed them there with a soft kiss. Yukimura tilted his face up, caught Sanada's mouth with his own.

Sanada's heart nearly stopped, but Yukimura's hand was curling around the back of his neck, playing with the soft, short hairs at his nape. Sanada stole his other arm around Yukimura's waist, pulled him closer, gently took Yukimura's lower lip between his teeth. Yukimura's sigh was half sleepy, half pleased, but when their tongues first met, wet and unsure, he hummed happily.

Sanada kissed him a little harder, held him tighter, noticed that his hands were wandering up and down Yukimura's back, feeling the contours of his spine and muscles through the soft cotton of his pajamas.

He felt a pressing thrill when Yukimura made an approving noise; he felt bold and triumphant and like he'd finally, finally won at the one, single thing that ever really, truly mattered in life, so he let his hands drift a little more... a little more...

"Genichirou!" Yukimura pulled away with a scandalized gasp, pulling away just enough that Sanada could not quite reach the lovely curve of his ass anymore. "Not in front of Ishida!"


End file.
